


though shadows fall

by Elizabeth (anghraine)



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Borgias, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Library, Alternate Universe - Noir, Alternate Universe - Renaissance, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Aunt-Nephew Relationship, F/M, Family, Gen, Language, Mother-Daughter Relationship, One Shot Collection, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Sibling Incest, Threesome - F/M/M, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 18:15:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 2,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12018327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anghraine/pseuds/Elizabeth
Summary: Short Star Wars fics prompted on Tumblr.





	1. Luke and Leia, Renaissance/Borgias AU

slashmarks prompted "Luke and Leia, Vatican AU" for the three-sentence meme.

 

Other Popes often acknowledged the existence of their children, from a distance, or at least scarcely bothered to conceal the identities of favoured ‘nephews and nieces’;—but the day that Anakin became Pope, Luke and Leia Andacielos sat in full sight of all the cardinals, bishops, nobles, and dignitaries.

Leia, nudged by her twin, muttered, “What is it?”

“Look, sis,” he said, nodding across the way; “I think Cardinal Windu is about to burst into flames.”


	2. Luke and Leia, Prison AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kaoriva prompted "✫Luke/Leia" for the luck of the die meme, and I rolled "Prison AU."
> 
> I wasn't sure if she meant Luke/Leia or Luke and Leia, so I went for the latter to be safe.

“I want to see Leia,” Luke said. He half expected to feel a ghostly fist close about his throat, but Vader only studied him for a moment, masked head tilting.

“Come,” he said, and led him through a series of bleak, labyrinthine halls, to a series of metal doors. Vader tapped a code into the number pad and the door slid open. Leia was lying on a bench in her white jumpsuit, asleep; for a moment, Luke almost thought they were back on the Death Star.

He glanced at Vader. No, not the Death Star. This was far worse.

“You have ten minutes,” Vader said brusquely, and left, the door slamming closed behind him.

Leia jerked awake. “Luke!” She sprang up. “You’re not hurt? You’re—”

At the same time, he said, “Leia, you’re all right? You haven’t been—” But he didn’t have to ask, not really. This close, he could see—feel?—that she hadn’t been hurt. Not yet.

Leia was searching his eyes; she let out a sigh of relief and hugged him. “He hasn’t hurt you.”

“No,” said Luke. He pressed his face into her hair, his fingers digging into the thick material of her suit. “Not yet. I don’t know why.”

He heard Leia’s breath catch. She stepped back. “He wants something. He was obsessed with finding you—that was the point of all of this. Me, Han, we were just … bait.” Her mouth twisted. “That’s why he hasn’t tortured me again. I’m his bargaining chip. Luke, whatever he wants,  _don’t do it_ _._ ”

Luke swallowed. Vader might do anything to Leia. He  _would_ , if Luke didn’t … but it gave Luke an opportunity too, didn’t it? He’d know if Leia was hurt. He always did. If Vader touched a braid on her head—

Well, Vader wasn’t the only one who could set conditions.


	3. Anakin, time travel AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> slashmarks prompted "Anakin, time travel AU" for the three-sentence meme.

Anakin couldn’t believe that Coruscant had changed so quickly. Clonetroopers—or, not clonetroopers, but soldiers like them—marched up and down the streets, which were more pristine than he’d ever seen them. And when he asked a passing stranger if General Kenobi was at the Temple, she just stared, then shrieked with laughter.


	4. Luke/Leia/Han, Borgias AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Palpatine set out to subvert the Jedi Order's power, instead of destroying it. Now, Anakin Skywalker is the dubiously-elected Grandmaster of the Order, openly raising his children within the Empire.
> 
> (AKA, a Borgias AU of a different flavour—instead of the Skywalkers in the place of the historical Borgias, the Skywalkers are _space_ Borgias!)

The fight was short and brutal, and ended with the assassin’s blaster at Leia’s heart, and her lightsaber hovering just in front of his spleen. 

“I’ll pay you double what he is,” she whispered.

He stared at her, then shrugged. He dropped the blaster. Without a moment’s hesitation, she shoved him back against the wall, lightsaber at his throat. 

“How stupid do you think I am?”

“Don’t kill me. You need me,” he said, smiling—smirking—up at her. But his pupils flared with fear under the blue gleam of her lightsaber. 

Leia laughed under her breath. “What do I need with a second-rate murderer? Give me one reason I shouldn’t deliver your head to the nearest—”

The Force alone warned her what to expect and she dodged out of the way just in time to keep him from knocking her lightsaber out of her grip. In that fraction of a moment, he had his blaster in hand again, pointed at her. She’d never seen anyone move so fast who wasn’t a Jedi—and many Jedi weren’t so quick, either.

He looked at Leia, her lightsaber slanted in front of her, then returned his blaster to its holster.

“I’m the best bounty hunter in the galaxy,” he said.

“Assassin?”

“Whatever you want to call it. I do whatever I’m told to do.” Despite his jaunty smile, his eyes were somber. “I’m smart and I’m quick, and I’ll work for you as long as you pay me.”

“Is that what you told Master Orsenni?”

“Orsenni’s an ass. I needed the job. But I’d choose work for the Grandmaster any day.” He paused. “Or the Grandmaster’s daughter.”

Leia tilted her head, considering him, eyes close on his hands, letting the Force flood through her. But she didn’t sense any deceit, or any sudden movements in the immediate future. She let herself relax, just slightly, while he watched her.

“Whatever you were going to put in my father’s drink,” she said. “Put it in Orsenni’s. Then we’ll talk terms.”

He grinned. 

“And another thing,” said Leia, resisting the urge to bite on her lip as Luke so often did. “I’m not going to keep calling you assassin. What’s your name?”

“Solo,” he said. “Han Solo.”

* * *

“I don’t see why it has to be me,” Luke said, rather petulantly.

Leia, though heartily sorry for him, gave him an unsympathetic look. “Of course you do. An alliance with the Hapes Consortium will give Father power independent of the Order and the Emperor. It’s the Queen Mother who wants a husband—”

“Breeding stock, you mean—”

" _A husband,"_ she went on, "so it has to be you or Galen. And really, Galen?”

Despite himself, Luke laughed. “Can you imagine?”

“He’d be dead in a year.”

“Less than that, probably.” Luke glanced down, biting his lip. “I just hope I won’t be.”

“They wouldn’t dare. Father—”

“Even Father couldn’t take on all of Hapes,” said Luke.

“He’d wreck the whole galaxy if anything happened to you. They know that. You’ll be worth your weight in platinum.” Forcing herself to smile, Leia nudged him. He was only a few minutes younger than her, but sometimes it seemed like years. "Don’t worry. She seems pleasant enough. I’m sure you’ll get on. And once you give her a daughter, you can come back home.“

"And if she isn’t? I’ve heard things—”

Leia would have liked to laugh that off as more petulance. Instead, her hand instinctively dropped to her lightsaber. She’d heard things, too.

“If Father needs the alliance that much,” he went on, “I don’t dare—”

He really would suffer silently rather than jeopardize an opportunity for their family. But Leia wouldn’t. She shoved him towards the wall and took out her lightsaber, grinning at his startled look. 

With a flick of her fingers, the weapon hummed to life. 

“If Ta'a Chume hurts you, I’ll carve her heart out."

Luke chuckled under his breath, though she knew he didn’t doubt that she meant it. Leia stepped closer, returning the lightsaber to her belt and smiling up at him.

"And then I’ll give it to you.”

* * *

There was enough room on the bed to sprawl across it, as Leia had so often done when she and Luke were children. Instead she plopped beside him as he read. 

“I killed someone while you were gone,” she said.

Luke glanced up from his datapad. He looked—and more than that, felt—mildly interested, rather than shocked or horrified. She’d expected that, but it still unsettled her. She’d grown used to thinking of Luke as her conscience, bright and incorruptible. 

“Who?”

Leaning back against his knee, she said, “Do you remember that man I danced with at your wedding?”

Leia felt the muscles of his leg tense then relax behind her. “Which one?”

“Attractive, blond. Average height. His uncle made a bit of a fuss.”

Affirmation washed through her before he said, “Oh, yes. Was he the one—?”

“Slept with him, killed the uncle.”

His weight shifted a little, and his datapad settled on—something—with a dull  _clack_. “Why?”

Leia turned to look at him, grinning. “Which one?”

“Both—either. I don’t know.” He was frowning and chewing on his lip: still Luke. “What did the uncle do?”

“Controlled Urslan’s money. Controlled his entire life. What he did, where he went. Beat him bloody if he took a step out of line. Urslan  _asked_ me to save him. But when I did—” As if from a distance, Leia heard her voice rising, as angry and betrayed as Urslan’s had been, felt her pulse speeding up. She dug her fingers into her palms. “He’s hiding in a Jedi chapterhouse now.”

Luke gazed at her steadily, without blame or approbation. “You killed his uncle for that?”

Her nails bit into her skin. “He insulted Mother.”

It was, Leia thought, like seeing a shadow of herself fall over his face. Luke stiffened, lips compressing and blue eyes narrowing. “When?”

“Your wedding. He said—” Leia had stabbed her lightsaber into his gut, nearly bisected him, and still could hardly bring herself to say the words. “He called her Skywalker’s whore and a Naboo traitor. Suggested that she and the Emperor—”

They shuddered in unison. 

“Well,” Luke said finally, “he doesn’t sound like much of a loss. Let’s not tell Mother, though.”


	5. Anakin/Padmé, genderswap+matriarchy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> slashmarks prompted "Vader and Padme, matriarchal AU (with or without genderswap)" for the three-sentence meme.
> 
> I have never turned away an opportunity for genderswap in my life, so.

From the first, Vadé dreamed of overthrowing the Empress. She had knelt before; she had knelt to so many others, so many times—but this time, she could almost feel that little piece of metal embedded somewhere in her body, charging up once more.

Perhaps the galaxy would not accept Padraig—not willingly—but that was what Vadé was for, wasn’t it?


	6. mother tongue (Beru and Luke)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sister-fic to [what are we living for](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6979666): Beru, passing down Shmi's legacy as well as she can.

Beru is Shmi’s daughter, and she isn’t. Certainly she thinks of Shmi as a mother, as her mother. Owen does, too, but inevitably he spends more time working with Cliegg, while Beru remains at Shmi’s right hand. He’s not there when Shmi talks haltingly of her years in slavery, nor when Beru finally works up the nerve to ask, after Shmi mutters something under her breath,  _what does that mean?_

Beru learns the language slowly, but she learns. She absorbs everything Shmi tells her—she likes those stories best, the ones about Shmi’s people, traders and merchants and priests and navigators and everything. Shmi is touched, she knows, that Beru cares: that anyone cares, with her son lost. Yet it’s no great effort. Beru  _should_ know. She wants to know. She is Shmi’s daughter. How could she not?

But she is not Alsarai. The stories do not belong to her. The language does not belong to her, though she speaks it and keeps speaking it, adjusting her pronunciation ever nearer to Shmi’s, correcting fumbled tenses and prepositions. She cares, because it is Shmi’s, and she loves Shmi, and it is proper that a daughter should know her mother’s history and her mother’s people. And she cares because the story of the Alsarai interests her, all the jagged pieces of it. Yet it is not  _hers_.

Luke is different, Beru thinks later, years later, cradling her nephew in her arms. He is the son of Shmi’s son. Heis Alsarai. And if they cannot give him Anakin, they can give him Shmi.

She carefully talks to the baby in his grandmother’s language. Owen doesn’t—can’t—but though he fusses over Luke when he’s there, those first months he works himself to the bone. They don’t dare lose the homestead now. So very often, Beru alone tends the baby through the long hours.

_Ma_ is Luke’s first word. Madam Darklighter coos over it, over Beru’s kindness in adopting the orphaned child of her husband’s stepmother’s offworlder son. There is no real obligation, and yet Beru is this child’s mother. Listen to him! 

He has no mother, Beru says.

What she doesn’t say: in Alsaraic,  _ma_ means  _no_. From her, from the very first, Luke knows that he is Alsarai and he knows that he is free.

What matters next to that?


	7. Anidala, Librarian AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> steinbecks prompted "anidala 25 (backflips out)" for the AU meme: librarian/avid reader au.

“I thought of staying in politics,” Padmé said once.

“You’ve left?” 

Anakin didn’t mean to be snide, or incisive, or much of anything. He just didn’t understand. It was one thing to call yourself a librarian in some dingy corner of Coruscant. It was quite another to spend your spare days in the Royal Library at Theed, researching the minutia of Republic law, passing messages in the books, and ready at any moment to answer the Senator’s summons. 

“In the Senate,” she clarified.

“Oh.” He wondered if she ever  _had_  been in the Senate, in body if not name. Had she taken Sabé’s place as Sabé had once taken hers? Ten years hadn’t diminished their resemblance, and he could easily believe it of Padmé, see her in the Senatorial gowns crafting law while Sabé did … whatever Sabé did. 

He both liked the idea, and didn’t. She seemed happier now than he remembered her being—muttering under her breath as she rearranged a wrongly-placed databook, hurrying off to consult with Sabé. And it wasn’t like Republic law did much of anything. 

“Are you sorry?” he asked her, before the silence could get too awkward. (He hoped.)

“I don’t know,” said Padmé. She smiled. “But that’s enough about that. Are you enjoying the library? Master Kenobi didn’t tell me you liked reading so much.”

He felt abruptly self-conscious about the pile of holobooks in his arms. At the same time, he felt a strong temptation to levitate them in the air, one by one, just to show her he could. 

But she wasn’t a queen or a senator, impressed by power, even if she hadn’t really left politics. She was a  _librarian_. The range of holobooks he’d rented probably impressed her more than stopping a blaster with his lightsaber would. 

“Obi-Wan wouldn’t know,” Anakin said. He wanted to sound matter-of-fact, but even he could hear the resentment colouring each word. “None of them do.”

Padmé blinked several times. Finally, she just said, “Why not?”

And somehow it all came out.

“They always went on about how I was illiterate and had to learn everything from the beginning. Like I didn’t speak more languages than most of them. And I could read and write in two. My mother—” He could almost see the dream before his eyes, hear her screaming. Fear, the fear he shouldn’t and wouldn’t feel, clogged his throat. “My master’s a great Jedi. A great man. But he can’t understand. And he doesn’t listen!”

He sounded like a child having a tantrum by the end. But Padmé just nodded thoughtfully, as if he’d said something profound. 

“People get so near-sighted about Basic,” she replied. “Which other ones do you read? I’m sorry, I suppose I’m not much better; I didn’t think of texts in other languages, but if you want…”

Anakin was already shaking his held, but he felt more enthralled by her than ever. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had taken his side without weighing probabilities and testimonies, much less apologized.

“There won’t be any. I mean, Huttish, but I don’t like reading that anyway. The other’s very … um, local.” He shifted uncomfortably. 

That was enough to destabilize the whole stack. The books went crashing in every direction—or would have, if he hadn’t caught them all in the air.

Padmé stared at the books floating between them. Then she grinned up at him.

“I think you might have missed your calling, Anakin,” she said. “If the Jedi thing doesn’t work out, you’ve got a job here.”

He imagined it: no masters, no commands, just him and Padmé bringing order to the ineptly organized library. And the occasional mission for Sabé, to keep things interesting.

Just a joke. It wasn’t even what he wanted, not really. He loved flying even more than reading, the power flooding his veins, the thrill of danger. Still, he looked at Padmé and wanted— _something._


	8. Jyn Erso, Noir AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ficlet I wrote for [this moodboard](http://anghraine.tumblr.com/post/157680654138/doesnt-everyone-reward-themselves-with-aus-noir).

Lianne Hall has been a lot of people. But it’s been a long, long time since she was Jyn Erso.

She’s fine with that. These days, she has a good life, or at least a tolerable one. Missing property and cheating spouses keep her bills paid. Barely paid, sure—in a city seething with crime, she knows better than to take any big jobs. She does her shitty work and she doesn’t ask where the money’s coming from. 

Not even when some hot asshole lawyer shows up and hires her to find Galen Erso. It’s a hell of a coincidence; she’s not sure she believes it’s a coincidence at all. Or that he’s a lawyer. Or that his real name is Cassian Andor. Or that he actually thinks her father is alive. But somewhere in the back of her mind, Jyn has always wanted to know what really happened. This is her chance to find out.

And to get paid for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The entire Noir AU concept actually originated as idle backstory for a very simple modern AU, and morphed into my beloved monster. ...I never thought I'd be writing modern SW AUs, but I suppose it just goes to show.


End file.
